


Work of Heart

by saiyuri_dahlia



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Artsy Shad, Getting Together, M/M, Via Nude Modeling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 08:17:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4659348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiyuri_dahlia/pseuds/saiyuri_dahlia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shad had known he would have to sketch a nude model at some point during his art class. What he did not know was that the model in question would be Link… It's awkward enough that he has to sketch someone he knows naked. It's a whole other kind of awkward when it's someone he's in love with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Work of Heart

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long while since I've written anything Shad/Link and I wanted to write something rather short to get me back into practice with them, especially since I'll be returning to "Wind" very soon. That and it is my personal pledge to keep the lifeblood of the pairing alive. And I admit the title was a working placeholder that wound up sticking in the end. There's a part of me that also grins stupidly at bad puns.
> 
> I knew I missed writing this pairing but until I wrote this, I hadn't realized exactly how much I missed writing these two dorks. As always, thanks for reading.

Story Title: Work of Heart

Disclaimer: I don't own TP.

-o-

Story Title: Work of Heart

-o-

Shad knew this day was coming. It had been made clear on the class lesson plan that there would be an extensive course in drawing the human form, which at some point would necessitate the presence of live models. While he was admittedly uncomfortable with the prospect of having to be in the presence of an unclothed lady or gentleman, part of his goal in taking this art class was to improve his drawing skills as they pertained to people. Shad had always enjoyed drawing. He had sketchbooks filled with flowers and cats, and made-up scribbly things he never quite got around to naming properly, and his field notes were riddled with sketches of ruins, ancient statues, symbols, and all sorts of interesting things he wanted to remember.

When he drew people, however, they never turned out quite right. Their noses were never quite centered properly, he never drew people showing their teeth when they smiled, portraits of his friends and family never actually looked anything like the people they were supposed to be, and at one point he had stopped drawing people with hands and feet altogether.

In an effort to improve his skills in a timely manner, he had found this art class and signed up for it.

So far, the class had been relaxing and engaging. Though it had not been his intention to inform his friends among the Group that his Thursday evenings were now occupied, they were rather happy and encouraging at the news. Ashei in particular mildly jeered that it was good that he was getting out more. Shad did have an unfortunate tendency to shut himself away—at least when he was consumed in a frenzy over an idea it was justifiable and the Group was fine with leaving him be for the time being, but when his fervor burned out and he was left hollow and lost and drowning in his failings, the Group was quick to rally together to draw him out from his depressions. Typically, it was Telma who shook him—sometimes quite literally—back to his senses. The past year it had been Telma and Link and then just Link showing up at his door.

There was no set seating arrangement in the class—it was essentially first come, first serve, and relocate oneself to find the proper angle one wished to capture as one pleased. Shad typically set up his easel in generally the same spot, if it wasn't already taken by an earlier bird than him and very few students showed up as early as he did.

A raised platform was set up in the near center of the room and on top of the platform was a large wooden crate, large enough for a person to sit completely on top of it, covered by a large tan sheet. It did not look particularly comfortable, especially for someone who had to remain still in one pose for an extended time. It did, however, provide the class the opportunity to capture the model at any angle.

Students, some as young as Shad and a few much older, gradually arrived and set up their workstations, chatting readily amongst one another. There were only twelve students in total and many of them seemed to be familiar with one another already. Aside from a few social pleasantries, Shad had spoken little to his classmates, feeling that he would be deemed too uptight by the colorful, innovative-minded youths and too inexperienced by the matured, practiced artists.

Shad clipped his drawing paper to his easel and organized his art supplies as the teacher gave her usual abstract introduction to today's lesson, which usually contained several impromptu rhyming haiku. Aside from looking and oftentimes behaving like the personification of delirium, the teacher was bubbly and encouraging, even if Shad did not always see where her thought path was going or ever found the fish in his starry night landscape.

As the teacher briefly exited the room to bring in their model, Shad steeled himself for the inevitable and prolonged sight of an unclothed person. He could not think of a bare body as an obscenity, as he was accustomed to believing. Given his surroundings and circumstances, it was art. He had to think of the model's nude form as art.

Wringing his hands in nervousness, he wondered if he could get away with just drawing the model's face…

The teacher returned with the model and instructed him or her—Shad had yet to look over and see who it was—to pose on the dais any which way they preferred as long as they could maintain that pose. With a so far fixed stare on the flagstone floors, Shad mustered the courage to flit a cursory glance over and, to his relief, noticed that for the moment the model was wearing a dark robe. Shad took the no doubt fleeting moment to have one proper memory of the model before he had to view more of this person than he ever wished to observe.

He should not have looked. Everything was worse now that he had looked.

All his life he had been a devotee of the Goddess Nayru in particular, but he was starting to believe that the Goddess Din was actually the goddess in control of his life—and either She or Nayru possessed a cruel-merciful sense of humor.

Link was the model. Of all the people across this great blessed land, of all the people he knew, why did it have to be him over anyone else? Once his tripped-up inner consciousness picked itself off the ground after scrambling and collecting all the bits and baubles that made up his mind, Shad swiftly turned away and stared underneath a table pushed against the far wall. He felt the warmth on his cheeks had already spread to as far as his pointed ears.

How could he bring himself to draw Link disrobed? It seemed improper to him to stare upon him bare. It felt too much like he was ogling or, heaven forbid, leering at him. As he heard the shifty slide of what he presumed was the removal of the dark robe maintaining Link's decency and heard the teacher announce to the class to begin, Shad rushed to realign his understanding that the human body was art and, personal feelings and desires aside, Link's body too was art.

As foolish as it was to say, it was. Really, it was. The first time Link had stayed over, and the first time Shad had seen him without chainmail and arm guards, he had worn a sleeveless undershirt and Shad had burned his fingertips holding a match too long after noticing his very defined, muscular arms in the flickering lantern light. Shad had surmised as much that Link would possess a muscular build. After all, it took great strength to halt a hefty Ordon goat mid-charge and tip it over. And strong calves to ground oneself…

As the teacher walked around and stood by his blank easel, Shad hastily in an anxious rush blocked out Link's pose.

He wished that Link had not posed himself at such an angle that Shad possessed the most direct view of him from the front. As if sitting among his grazing goats on a hillside, Link sat relaxed on the covered wooden crate with his right leg bent, his hands and right foot gripping the side edges of the crate for support as his left hovered barely an inch from touching the platform floor. Shad held his pencil above his paper as he hesitated to glance over in worry that his stare would noticeably linger too long.

The shape and size of his blocked out torso seemed about right. His collarbone line was a little off and Shad had guessed where his areolas would be. Though his face was still warm and his heartbeat was still quickened, Shad was not quite reeling in panic any longer. The teacher's presence had prodded him into putting something on his paper and, in doing so, had shown him that he did not need to feel embarrassed. He was starting to believe his own reassurances that he could draw Link. After systematically blocking out his form part by part, his rough sketch was nearly complete. If he just…

Shad lowered his pencil and bowed his head, smiling to himself to lessen his discomfort. He wondered if this was the feeling meant by 'so close but so far away'. He certainly wished he could be far away. He didn't necessarily have to look, now did he? He could guess again and flesh out elsewhere. It was just a drawing. Art, he reminded himself. A few lines and he could think nothing of it. It was nothing he had not seen before. …N-Not Link's, of course. As far as he knew, he had not seen Link's personals before.

He wondered if he could get away with drawing a fish there instead—at least now the fish in his sketch would be intentional.

Slowly, Shad glanced askance and toward Link. His gaze started relatively high at Link's lower abs, fell down his pelvis, and ran along the cut of his deep-v—and then Shad hastily collected his art supplies and excused himself from the classroom. If it had been anyone else, it wouldn't have been as discomforting. He could have distanced himself, forced himself to become impassive. He could have drawn anyone else.

He hurried through the central square, jostling past the sluggish crowds and accidentally breaking through more than one gossipmongers' circle.

The problem was not even that Link was handsome, though he was. The matter tripping him up and keeping his eyes to his drawing paper was that Shad was attracted to him in all possible ways. Link was a good fellow, kind and brave and willing to help any person and creature. He had grown dear to him quicker than anyone he had ever met, even among his allies-turned-friends within the Group. While Shad had fostered his love for Link, he had not roused the will to divulge his feelings to him. He could not bring himself to tell him of his affections for him, much less think of and act upon his more intimate desires. His sense of propriety would not permit him to.

Come the following Thursday, Shad did not attend his art class.

-o-

Putting aside his sketchbook and covering it up with a stack of field journals, Shad rose from his living room study—really his sofa and coffee table—and made his way to his apartment door to answer the knocking. Given the presence of summer sunlight outside, he estimated it to be after eight and his odd clock confirmed the hour. Still it was not a particular time for him to have visitors, not that Shad ever had much company over. He wondered if street beggars had made their way into the building again.

"Ah, good evening, old boy," Shad said, peering through the tentatively opened gap and realizing it was Link. And though his greeting was warm and friendly, an uncomfortable lump dropped itself to the bottom of his stomach at seeing Link. Perhaps he would not mention anything. Perhaps he simply sought to stay over.

Link returned his hello and put on a smile, his brightness immediately fading and replaced with concern. "…Is anything wrong? You alright?"

"I say, I can think of nothing that would be," Shad said much too readily.

"You weren't in class today," Link said, his head tipped down and to the side in shame. "It's because of me, isn't it?"

"Yes, I mean, no…" Shad tried to backtrack but knew it was too late. Pink rising to his cheeks, he too bowed his head and canted his stare to the opposite side. "It is more than a little awkward, would you not agree?"

Link nodded. And even though he was not entirely sure if he wished to be in Link's presence right now, he was still a welcomed friend so Shad stepped away from the doorway and invited Link inside. Link came in, offering a smile and nod in thanks, but neither knew how to further bridge their present conversation to the other. For the moment, they were both silent. As was his solution to all uncertainties and uncomfortable times, Shad proceeded to make himself a cup of tea.

Accepting his offer for a drink and taking a glass of milk, Link set it aside on the countertop, earning a raised eyebrow from Shad as he gathered a cup and saucer and a teaspoon. Link usually drank half or more of his glass as soon as it was given to him. There must have been something worrying him if it could for the moment turn him away from milk.

"I didn't mean to offend you," Link said.

"No, no, old boy, I do not fault you. We must all do what we must to earn our rupees," Shad replied.

Link blinked and then snickered to himself in disbelief. "I get paid for this?"

His back still turned away from Link as he tended to his tea-making, Shad regarded his disbelief that payment was due for his services provided with curiosity. "Well, if not for the rupees, I say, what pray tell are you doing this for?"

Link tried to casually brush off his answer. "No reason," he said. And that was a lie if Shad had ever heard one. Granted Link was not a fellow prone to lying so it would be reasonable that his attempts at circumventing the truth would be poor and yet Shad still wished furrow his brow at such a weak lie.

"You honestly convinced yourself that that would suffice," Shad said, placing his filled teakettle over the kindled flame and faced Link, smiling all too sheepishly as he turned away in embarrassment, taking his milk with him. "Do not think you can slink away without properly replying."

"It's not that big a deal, Shad," Link lied again, still grinning and now shaking his head and refusing to look up at him as he made his way into the young scholar's living room.

"Evading me, are you, my dear boy?" Shad said and followed Link. "Would you be able to muster your courage and face me if I donned some Darknut armor?"

His stack of field journals, loose papers, and sketchbook slid and scattered about after Link roughly bumped the coffee table in his haste. Setting his glass down, Link immediately started putting his things back in order and, of course, found his sketchbook.

"Why did you leave class?" Link asked, sparked by his find, no doubt. "Why don't you want to draw me?"

"It is not that I…" Shad started to say and then caught himself. He then replied sternly, "Do not skirt my question with another question."

"Answer mine and I'll answer yours." Link raised his chin defiantly.

"I asked mine first," Shad said, glared back with a slight edge of indignation in his voice.

He quickly realized how juvenile he and Link sounded. It was rare for them to speak to one another with any sort of raised or stern voice and never had they been unable to talk out their disagreements. Link did not wish to answer his question and Shad certainly did not wish to respond honestly to his. In their own ways, they were both stubborn and willful and would never truly allow their questions to go unanswered. Shad decided to offer a technically not untruthful response, selecting and arranging his words carefully.

"The rest of the class, they do not know you. They have never spoken to you, worked with you previously, or had you over for dinner. They do not…" Shad almost said cared for you but he worried that phrasing would strike too closely to the truth, "…possess a closeness to you that I have."

A small smirk appeared on Link's face before he looked away and started to gather papers that had slid off to the side. "Ashei told me you were taking an art class," he said. "I didn't know you could draw. She said you used to sketch people during meetings and now you don't draw at all."

"I do still draw," Shad said, assisting Link with the reorganization of his notes and journals. "I am not very good with people, however."

"She said you used to draw everyone in the Group but you never sketched me."

"By no means was it an affront to you, old boy," Shad said, as he flipped and turned pages around and placed them in their proper order. "I have ceased drawing people altogether. I know what I am not proficient at."

"Would you draw me once?" Link asked, as he handed Shad a messy, jumbled stack of gathered papers. "I'll keep my clothes on, if that would help."

Wide-eyed in surprise and dumbfounded momentarily at his request, Shad looked over and stared at Link, his eyes and smile soft and gently pleading. Link seemed rather preoccupied with the idea of Shad drawing him. He seemed to place a great deal of importance in having a sketch made by him. Shad feared he would be greatly disappointed once he completed his far-from-masterful portrait.

"I am afraid my portrait of you would not be very good," he said, returning to his pages promptly and lightly shaking his head no. "In truth, I doubt that it would even look like you."

Link shrugged his shoulders. "That doesn't matter to me."

Shad thumbed idly through his pages but pretended to be uncertain of their order to stall time. He was not exactly against sketching Link but he knew even with his improved skills that he could not produce a sketch that would accurately portray Link in an aesthetically pleasing light.

"…I can't," Shad said, laying his papers on the coffee table and standing up at the shrill whistle of his teakettle. "There is an older madam in my class that is better suited—"

Link grabbing his hand pulled him to a sudden stop. Shad looked back and down at Link, still crouched by his notes. Link peered up at Shad. "I don't care if what you draw is just a stick figure. I just…" He held onto his hand. There was no real force in his grip but Shad felt the press against his palm. "…I want you to draw me."

He knew his portrait drawing skills were not good enough and whatever scribble he made would be a waste of paper but Link was adamant. "If that is what you wish," Shad said quietly, as Link stood up. He followed Shad into the kitchen, never letting go of his hand until he had to tend to his kettle.

They sat across from one another at his kitchen table. He asked Link to sit angled to the side, as his sketches tended to look better from an angle than if he drew the person straight on, face to face with him. And as silly as it sounded, he wasn't certain if he could handle a direct, prolonged gaze from Link. He had his concerns that his nerves would unsteady his hand or he would find himself staring back and not drawing at all.

He possessed no inkling as to how Link managed to remain in one pose long enough to make it to his first of three fifteen-minute breaks during the duration of the art class, however. Repeatedly, he caught sight of Link looking over at him and gently reminded him to not move even in the slightest. And then he would catch that Link's smile had grown just a bit more which in turn would require another mild reprimand and often brought a small smile to Shad's face. Unless he worked with someone familiar with him like Shad, patient enough to deal with his tendency to move, or intentionally sought a moving model, professionally modeling for artists was not going to be Link's post-Hero calling.

Shad carefully erased away his guide lines as Link made them a light late dinner. He had asked to see his finished picture immediately after he was done but Shad had pulled his sketchbook close to his chest and asked that he at least waited until he cleaned it up a bit. Tightly pinching his lips shut to stifle his laughter, Link had shrugged his shoulders and proceeded on with discovering the dinner potentials of his icebox and pantry.

"It's not bad," Link said, leaning and looking over his left shoulder sometime later after dinner and cleaning up. He wrapped his arm around Shad's shoulders and draped it over his right shoulder.

"It is not very good either," Shad said quietly, noting the closeness of their side-by-side faces. Link's intimate proximity was nothing peculiar. Their greetings had long since progressed from the gentlemanly handshake to hugs and, when he could not see the avenue his thoughts were taking him, Link did not simply clasp his shoulder to reassure him but instead pressed his forehead to his and talked him through his doubts.

Link grinned. "It just needs love and attention is all," he said as he enfolded his arms tightly around him and buried his face into the bend of Shad's neck. He felt the presence of his mouth and breath on his shirt collar. "How about you?"

"I am not one to garner attention," Shad replied, a bit of a hitch in his voice. He turned his head to the side and brushed against Link's hair.

"You have my attention," Link said.

"Do I possess your love?"

Raising his head up, Link kissed his cheek and then gently tipped Shad's head forward so that their foreheads touched.

"Always."

-o-

Shad woke up the next morning, careful not to stir Link awake beside him. He swiftly covered himself with undergarments and trousers and made his way to his kitchen to prepare his morning tea. He paused in his bedroom door and looked back at his bed. He admired Link as he slept comfortably, early dawn sunlight spilling in from a gap in his curtains. Shad stepped quietly to his kitchen and returned to his bedroom, placing a chair from his kitchen table a short distance away from his bed. He sat down, opened his sketchbook to a blank page, and began a rough sketch immediately, hoping to finish before his kettle sounded.


End file.
